Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
My stomach twists. “The McAlisters?”
He nods. “She had documents with her. Old adoption records, journals, letters—things she’d spent years tracking down. She’d figured it out, Aubrey. That she—that you both—were direct descendants of Josephine McAlister, the baby born during the Donner Party ordeal.”
I close my eyes, memories surfacing unbidden. Lainey at thirteen, stealing our father’s car to drive to the library two towns over because ours didn’t have enough books on the Donner Party. Lainey at sixteen, spending her summer job money on a “historical research trip” to Donner Memorial State Park with a friend who probably had no idea what she was getting into. Lainey at twenty, drunk and crying about how our mother used to tell her stories about the hunger when she was too young to understand what it meant and that she worried one day she’d turn into her, that the stories would come true.
Stories she never told me.
Stories I’d dismissed because of course my mother would ramble on like that sometimes. I’d grown up learning to compartmentalize it and ignore it, because if I didn’t, it would have killed my childhood.
“She knew,” I say softly. “All those years, she knew. Or at least suspected. And she never told me.”
The betrayal hits deep. Not just that Jensen had been lying, but that Lainey had been. My sister. My own flesh and blood. She’d been keeping it from me.
“I think she was trying to protect you,” Jensen says, seeming to read my face. “The way she talked about you…she wanted to keep you safe from it.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “By disappearing without a trace? By letting me spend three years wondering if she was dead or alive? That’s not protection, Jensen. That’s cruelty.”
“She didn’t plan for things to happen the way they did,” he says, his voice rough with regret. “None of us did.”
I force myself to meet his gaze, to face whatever terrible truth comes next. “Tell me everything,” I say. “From the beginning.”
Jensen takes a deep breath, settling into the chair across from me. Outside, the storm continues its assault, snow hissing against the windowpanes, wind moaning through the eaves like a living creature.
“They came to the ranch in early May,” he begins. “Lainey was excited, almost manic, talking a mile a minute about the research she’d done, the connections she’d made. Adam was…different. Quiet. Controlling. He’d cut her off mid-sentence, squeeze her arm when she said too much. Like he was embarrassed of her. I didn’t like him from the start.”
I nod, remembering the few times I’d met Adam. How Lainey seemed smaller in his presence, less vibrant. How she’d call to cancel plans at the last minute, always with an excuse that sounded rehearsed, like he was standing off to the side and making sure she did it.
“He had money too. I don’t know where he got it, but I suspect drugs. Didn’t matter to me, though. Payment was payment. And Lainey wanted to go deep into the mountains,” Jensen continues. “To the places where the McAlisters had been—not just the main Donner camp by the lake, but where they’d moved to get away from the others. Where Josephine was born. Where the transformation began.”
“And you took them,” I say, unable to keep the accusation from my voice.
Pain flashes across his face. “Yes. I took them. To be honest with you, I was curious. I wanted to believe her theories—about the curse, about the hunger, about people living in the mountains for over a century. It aligned with what Jake McGraw passed down through the generations of my family, stories about how he and his wife, Eve, met, searching for survivors in the area when yet another party went missing. About what they saw. About what creatures they’d defeated. These hungry ones. It was the closest I’d gotten to having someone believe in my own family history, from someone outside the family, of course. And your sister’s enthusiasm, her passion, was contagious.”
I swallow hard. “What happened up there?”
“We made good progress the first few days. Camped at the same spots we’ve been staying at. Took the same trail. Lainey was…exhilarated by it all. She kept taking notes, taking pictures.”
“The alcove by the creek? With the bracelet and the sky pilots and the markings. Was that her?”
He shrugs. “When I saw it with you the other day, that was the first I’d seen it. But she had been in the area, off exploring with Adam. She may have left it on purpose. Perhaps for you. Maybe even had seeds on her, who knows.”
My throat tightens with unexpected emotion. Even in her obsession, even running toward something dangerous and unknown, Lainey had thought of me. Had left pieces of herself for me to find.
Did she know she wasn’t coming back?
When she said the mountains were calling, did she know the answers would hold her hostage?